Force of Life
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Ben makes a crucial decision as to what to do about his Force sensitivities. This is AU. Chapter 3 is the conclusion. Thanks for reading from both 2Old4This2 and me!
1. Chapter 1

FORCE OF LIFE

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing! I make nothing!**

 **AUTHORS' NOTE: This story is actually a joint collaboration between 2Old4This2 and myself. I appreciate everything she brought to this story-and it was a lot. So send her love, too!**

 **THE OTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been an experience—and a pleasure—to collaborate on this story along with StatsGrandma57. I hope you enjoy our joint voice.**

Leia excused herself from Ben, pleading hunger. Which, when she thought about it, was only the truth. She hadn't had a chance to grab any breakfast before she'd answered her son's request that morning, and now it was almost lunchtime. Also, she needed to contact Han and Luke to let them know about her conversation with Ben.

"He's going to go through with it," Leia told Han, speaking softly into her comm. She realized she might be acting paranoid, but she didn't want anyone to overhear this particular conversation.

"Can I comm you back? I've got a job that has to go out tomorrow, I'm trying to get Nien Nunb to take it. We're arguing over the split," Han explained.

"Han! Give him the job and listen to me!" Leia ordered, her irritation at full volume. So much for not being overheard, Leia thought ruefully. Properly chastised, Han asked her to hold for a moment and then returned.

"You know I'm only getting ten percent off this job," Han reminded her. Leia wanted to smack him—there were more important things to worry about than money—but she could hear in his voice that he was running on nervous energy.

"I don't care if you have to pay Nien for the entire thing," Leia barked at him. She was running on nervous energy, too. "Now, as I was trying to explain to you, Ben has decided he's going to allow Luke to perform the" she paused, hesitating over the last word. "...removal." she finally finished.

Han was quiet for a moment; the gravity of the situation becoming clear to him. Leia heard him cough slightly, and his voice quavered. She suspected that tears were forming in her husband's eyes. "He's sure?" Han asked softly.

"Yes," Leia sighed, as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. "We need to talk to Luke. But before I do anything else, I need food," She looked at the hand holding her comm—it was shaking. "My blood sugar's leveled out somewhere in my toenails."

"You know to never eat in the medcenter cafe, don't you?" Han warned her.

"I know the food is terrible, but right now, I'd eat a stale ration bar if I had to," Leia groaned. "I don't want to step outside and risk being noticed."

Leia could hear Han's lopsided grin through his gusty sigh. "I suppose I could pick-up something tasty for you on my way over," he offered. His instinctive kindness could still melt her heart into a small, gooey puddle. "I'll even bring something for the boy," he continued. "He could use a little meat on his bones." One of the things that Han and Leia had agreed upon when Ben had been admitted was that while they were willing to be with him as much as he wanted, they were not going to make this stay comfortable for him. They didn't want him to consider his confinement in the medcenter pleasant.

"To hear him say it, starvation is preferable to the cuisine he's being forced to endure," Leia said, rolling her eyes. "Somehow, I don't think eliminating Ben's Force sensitivity will get rid of his ability to whine."

"He can whine all he wants, as long as this stops him from screaming and wrecking things," Han grumbled. "I really don't want him driving me to drink any more than he already does."

"How soon can you be here?" Leia asked.

"Just as soon as I can grab some Bakura Barbecue," Han said. "I guess we need to talk to Luke

as well, let him know," he continued. "But let's make sure Ben knows we're both there for him before we bring him in."

"Luke will need time to prepare, too. Do you want me to comm him, or do you want to do it?" Leia asked, secretly wishing that this wasn't something she had to discuss with her brother.

"I'm getting lunch," Han remarked. "You get to talk to your brother."

Leia's heart sank. She suspected the process was going to be as difficult for her twin as it was for her son. She wasn't looking forward to the conversation.

01123581321345589144233377610987

Han stood in the queue for pickup orders at Bakura Barbecue, his eyes scanning the lunchtime crowd. He thought he'd spied one or two reporters staked out next to the restaurant—it was one of his family's favorite eateries—but he couldn't be sure. He could have used his influence as Leia's husband—and hero of the Rebellion, he thought with a wry grin—to jump the line, but his wife would never do it, and neither would he. Han was a working man, and an independent businessman, no better than any other being standing in the line—and he had punched out enough holoreporters in the past that they knew enough to leave him alone while he was grabbing lunch. The unwanted attention their family had suffered through in the early years had diminished over time—at least until Ben was put under medical care.

For once, Han found he was grateful to Mon Mothma. She couldn't suppress the media—it would have been a bad idea for her to even attempt it—but she'd not only forbidden anyone employed by the government to speak in regards to their family situation, she'd also publicly requested respectful treatment for the Organa-Solo family. Not that the media ursai had paid much attention, there were still hordes of them camped out by the medcenter, but he and Leia had been able to avoid most of them. And confidentiality rules disallowed commentary by anyone affiliated with the medcenter. It was as good as it was going to get. Now if only he could retrieve lunch in peace; Han had enough on his mind without worrying about an idiot looking for a byline.

Han shifted nervously from foot to foot as the line inched forward. He'd expected to feel overjoyed with the news that Ben had made the decision he had. So why was he so anxious?

01123581321345589144233377610987

It was only when he was standing in front of the locked service door in the back of the medcenter that Han remembered he'd handed his pass key to Leia that morning. He had just begun a creative litany of Corellian curses at his own stupidity when the door opened. One of the cleaners, a Duros, was pushing out a repulsor cart filled with empty cartons, destined for the medcenter's recycler. His lipless mouth split into a friendly grin as he stepped aside to let Han enter the building, his red eyes dancing with delight as he sniffed at the takeout bag. "I'd be happy to help you with that," the green-skinned Duros offered.

"Not after how long I had to wait in line for this," Han joked as he went through the work area and made his way out into the medcenter corridors. But his voice sounded stiff to his own ears, and he knew his jovial manner was forced. He found himself dragging his feet, nervous about facing Ben, now that the decision had been made.

 _Why?_ Han asked himself, yet again. _This is what we wanted, isn't it?_

Han drew in a sharp breath and willed himself to be calm; he would not make his wife and son more nervous than they already were. Leia had tried to keep her tone light during the comm, but Han hadn't been fooled, he could hear the stress in her voice. But he'd also recognized that she was genuinely hungry. He hoped that the quick meal, shared between the three of them, would relieve some of the tension.

He was the husband and father, he reminded himself, and it was his role to hold things together. It might not have been the most common way of thinking in the galaxy, and certainly he and Leia were partners when it came to parenting their children, but Han held to a very traditional Corellian view of what he needed to do. And that was to be their strength.

Seeing his wife and son sitting next to each other cross-legged on the bed, he gave a perfunctory knock at the entrance to the plasticine cube.

"Oh, thank the gods!" Leia gasped in relief when she looked up. Han got the impression she wasn't just talking about lunch—the tension was obvious.

"Please tell me there's something in there for me. The food here doesn't even deserve the name!" Ben said excitedly, his chocolate-brown eyes lighting up.

"I took pity on you, buddy," Han said, leaning down to kiss Leia and ruffling Ben's hair. Ben glowered, mostly out of habit; the boy obviously found his father's casual gesture comforting. Han handed out the boxes to his eager wife and son. Ben dove into his like a krayt dragon on an unsuspecting womprat. _Never stand between a growing boy and his food,_ Han thought with some bemusement, remembering how hungry he'd been growing up.

Even though she was hungry, Leia only picked at her food. Han understood why; she was nervous about Ben's decision and what was coming next, just as he was. He took her small hand in his and squeezed reassuringly as he addressed their son.

"Your mom tells me you've made a decision." Han never had been one to dance around the subject at hand—well, at least not since he'd revealed his true feelings for Ben's mother, so many years ago—and now was no different.

"Yeah," Ben confirmed through a mouthful of fried tubers.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Leia admonished him automatically.

"It's not my fault," Ben mumbled as he chewed. "Dad tried to talk to me while I was eating," he told her. Leia shot her son The Look. He shuddered and closed his mouth.

Han, in turn, threw Leia a look that said: _Eat!_ It took him back to their days in the Rebellion, when she often simply forgot about food. Not that the Alliance cuisine had been anything beyond calories, but she had desperately needed to fuel her body then. And, back then, he'd been able tempt her with something a little better than rations, every once in a while. Today he'd been smart enough to play to Leia's weaknesses, bringing along a slice of chocolate cake for her. Han knew his wife—no matter how bad things were; she was unlikely to allow chocolate cake to remain uneaten.

Leia began to pick at the lunch before her, but once she'd taken a few tentative nibbles, her hunger took over, and the princess began to eat in earnest. It was not lost on her that this was likely going to be a long, long day, and might well extend into the night. She wasn't sure when her family would have a chance to eat again.

 _Jana and Kira!_

"I need to get someone to take care of the girls," Leia announced, realizing what she'd done as she was about to take a bite of her grilled avan sandwich. She was horrified that she'd been so caught up in the morning's events that she'd nearly forgotten her own daughters. This wasn't her normal manner of operations, and she hated feeling out of control.

Then again, it wasn't every day your son announced that he was going to eliminate his Force sensitivities.

She was about to return to her meal, now hurrying to finish in order to find a caretaker for the girls, when her comm went off. It was Mon Mothma. Leia groaned.

As she clicked the device on, Leia resisted the temptation to tell the older woman that she was absolutely unavailable. When she heard Mon Mothma's first words, however, she was glad she'd held her tongue.

"Leia, I'm so sorry to interrupt, and I don't know how things are going, but I wanted to ask if there was anything you needed," Mon said solicitously.

Leia could have kissed her in that moment. "I might be here for quite a while, and I haven't made arrangements for the girls. Chewie's not available, and they really run roughshod over Threepio. Do you think you could ask—"

"I'll be happy to take care of them myself," Mon Mothma told her matter-of-factly.

For a heartbeat, Leia stared blankly at her comm, shock having struck her momentarily dumb. "It could take quite a while, and I know you've got important—" she hurried on, still not believing what she had just heard.

"Nonsense. I'll care for them as long as necessary. Do what you need to do; the girls and I will have a lovely time." Mon sounded wistful. Leia remembered that Mothma's son had died during the Alliance defeat at Hoth. Now that she was a mother herself, the princess wondered how the older woman bore the loss.

"Thank you," Leia said softly. "I'll keep you apprised."

"Just pay attention to matters at hand. It's what you've always done best. And don't worry about anything else." Mon Mothma terminated the comm.

"Well, that was startling," Leia remarked, turning back to her family. "Mon Mothma is taking care of Jana and Kira."

"She's a nice lady," Ben commented as he polished off his oversized ground nerf sandwich.

Han was about to point out that Mon Mothma was the reason for most of Leia's absences during Ben's younger years, but Leia treated him to The Look as well, and he had to agree with his wife that this wasn't the time or place. Besides, the woman hadn't sworn at him in years, and she _was_ caring for Jana and Kira.

"Mom, you gonna eat that?" Ben asked, pointing to Leia's cake.

Leia's eyes blazed at him. "Ben, do you know what happens to people who even look at my chocolate cake?"

Ben shuddered, and retreated to a safe distance. "Forget I asked. Can I finish your tubers?"

"Have at it. I can get to the cake sooner that way," Leia said, rolling her eyes slightly as she handed her container to Ben, who pounded down the remaining tubers. Secretly, she was relieved he was eating; he was thin to begin with, and he'd lost weight in the medcenter.

Han polished off his nerf steak sandwich, crumpled the detritus into his container, and aimed it for the trash receptacle, smoothly tossing the contents into their intended target.

"Lucky shot, Dad," quipped Ben.

"It's all skill, kid." This brought forth a laugh from both Leia and Ben. Then Han became serious. Now that they'd finished eating, it couldn't be put off any longer. "Mom says you've made a decision," he said again.

"Yeah." Ben grew quiet. "I'm gonna do it."

Han nodded and turned toward Leia. The look that passed between them wouldn't have been discernible to anyone else, but it had become a form of subtle communication between the couple, built over many years. It confirmed that things were serious.

"But one thing," Ben told his parents, looking up. "I don't wanna do it here. Not in the medcenter. I hate it here. I wanna be somewhere quiet. Like home."

Han and Leia couldn't help but laugh. Leia put her arm around her son's shoulder. "Sweetie, the last time we checked, which I believe was this morning, our home was anything but quiet."

"But it's home," Ben protested.

Han frowned. "Ben, I don't know if that's a good idea. For one thing, we need to talk about all the medical stuff with your Uncle Luke and Seven-Three-H."

"I don't wanna do it here," Ben objected. "I hate this place!"

"We don't like it here any better than you do, son," Han said, laying his hand over Ben's. "Believe me, my back is reminding me of that every moment."

Leia spoke softly to him. "Let's talk to Luke and Seven-Three-H and see if they have any suggestions. We do need to make sure you're medically safe during and after the procedure."

Tears welled large in Ben's dark eyes. "I just wanna go home," he sobbed.

Han and Leia put their arms around their son and glanced knowingly at each other.

It was time for Luke to step in.


	2. Chapter 2

**FORCE OF LIFE**

 **CHAPTER TWO**

Luke was in deep meditation in his tiny apartment on Coruscant. He could feel that Ben had made his decision. Yoda's words came back to him: _always in motion is the future._

That certainly was true in Ben's case.

Luke knew it was his nephew's well-being—both now _and_ in the future—that had brought them to this point. Some currents in the Force were so strong that they could not be denied, and those that he'd seen indicated that to not remove Force sensitivity from the boy would have catastrophic consequences—both for the Solos and for the entire galaxy.

Still, it broke his heart; Ben was so strong with the Force. If only he hadn't been afflicted with a powerful illness that was both physical and psychological, they might have been able to treat it and save Ben's gift.

Apparently that was not to be.

Requesting, nearly begging, for the Force to guide him wisely, Luke returned to his waking state and picked up his comm, punching in the code for Leia. One other, fervent wish was that this would be a chance to heal the wounds in their relationship. He missed the warmth and closeness he'd enjoyed with his twin up until the past few years, when Ben's abortive Jedi training had driven a wedge between them.

 _You're not supposed to have an agenda,_ he scolded himself. But Jedi though he was, he was still human. A man, with a wife, children, a brother-in-law, nieces, a nephew, and above all, a twin sister.

"Luke," Leia answered, not at all surprised to hear from her brother.

"He's nearly ready," Luke said gently. "When would you like me to come?"

"We're having a problem with that. He doesn't want to have it done in the medcenter."

Luke frowned. The few cases he'd examined, which were the same ones that Seven-Three-H had studied, indicated that a death had never occurred during the removal process. However, unconsciousness was a possibility, and that was a concern. The smattering of Jedi literature Luke had accumulated over the years confirmed the findings of the medical reports. From both sources, it was reported that in only one case had the subject become unconscious, and he'd recovered. However, Luke strongly believed that monitoring was essential. The other two subjects had fallen into a deep sleep but had not lost consciousness. Luke hoped that that would be the case for Ben, but this was serious procedure. And since information was so sparse, it worried him that there could be unforeseen complications. The Force was physical, as well as spiritual, mystical, and metaphysical. Things could go wrong, and Luke wanted to make sure Ben would not be harmed.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, seeing as we have so little in the way of solid documentation about the process. We just don't know a lot." Luke said, a twinge of nervousness gripping his stomach. "Where does he want to do it?"

"At home," Leia said unhappily.

Luke immediately ruled that out. "That's inappropriate, especially since Jana and Kira are there. They are there, aren't they?"

"With Mon Mothma, if you can believe that," Leia informed him.

"Now that's a new one," Luke chuckled.

"She likes children. You know about her son," Leia reminded him.

Luke knew. And he also wondered if Mon Mothma had grown as sick of politics as Leia was. Leia had never said anything to him, but he knew his sister was ready to leave that life behind her.

"I can't say I blame him for not wanting it here at the medcenter," she continued. "This isn't exactly the New Chautauqua Palace Hotel," Leia said, recalling the elegant resort where she and Han had spent their honeymoon.

"I think it's time for the four of us to meet with Seven-Three-H. Can you arrange that?" Luke

asked.

Leia emitted a hearty laugh. "Arranging things is what I've done all my life."

01123581321345589144233377610987

Han, Leia, Ben, Luke, and Seven-Three-H sat in a small medcenter conference room. Seven-Three-H was skeptical about including the boy, both his youth and his tenuous mental state made the droid wary, but Han and Leia had been adamant. Ben had made the decision; he had a right to know what would happen, and what the possible dangers were. It was a momentous choice for the young man, and his parents insisted that he was going to be involved every step of the way. In the end Seven-Three-H had acquiesced.

"I won't do it in my cube," Ben insisted, before anyone else had a chance to speak up.

Luke knew the boy felt very strongly about his surroundings, and he, too, considered it an important aspect.

"Ben does need to be comfortable with where he is for the most positive outcome," Luke stated to Seven-Three-H.

"I understand that," Seven-Three-H said patiently.

Seven-Three-H's vocabulator was programmed to sound both calming and assured. Whoever had designed the droid had certainly done a fine job, Han had to concede. Not only did his voice fail to irritate him—he might have been the only droid in the galaxy with that distinction—but he had been both supportive and caring with Ben, and the entire family. And, Han was well aware that Ben hadn't been an easy patient for the medcenter staff to care for.

"But since there are so few documented cases, and we are not sure how this will affect you," Seven-Three-H continued, turning his photoreceptors to Ben, "I believe medical support is warranted."

Ben's face dropped and his eyes darkened. Han tensed, hoping his son wasn't going to change his mind or get wildly upset; it was obvious he wasn't happy.

Upon observing the young man's sadness, Seven-Three-H turned to Luke. "We have a Chapel of Silence here in the medcenter. It's very soundproof; no noise leaks in, nor does any leave the confines of its walls. It's a pleasant room, small, but large enough for the task at hand. We will bring in enough equipment so that you'll be monitored the entire time. Master Luke, will that be agreeable to you?"

Luke nodded, trying to keep his nervousness well hidden. "I think that would be fine," he answered, his relief at the suggestion obvious. The truth was, Luke had no desire to perform the procedure in a clinical setting. A silent chapel would be calming for everyone involved.

"Let's take a look at the chapel," Luke suggested. He hoped that it would be an appropriate environment.

"Very well. Come with me," Seven-Three-H stood, beckoning the others to follow him. They left the mental health cluster and walked past the general admitting area. Ben craned his neck, looking longingly at the throngs of beings on the walkway outside the medcenter's main doors.

"Don't even think about running, kid," Han warned his son. His tone was joking, but he meant every word.

Ben glared at his father, his look very nearly identical to the one Leia shot at Han when she was truly irritated with him. Han said nothing more, simply laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "This is hard enough, Dad," Ben told his father in a harsh whisper. Han nodded once, indicating he understood.

Leia slowed her pace so that she walked next to Han. "Cool it," she whispered up at him. Her face appeared calm, but her eyes betrayed her anxiety.

Right now was one of those times she wished _she_ had no Force sensitivity. She felt everyone's nervousness—Han's, Ben's, Luke's, even Seven-Three-H's—and that was on top of her own. She was trying to calm herself the way she did before she used to enter into battle, or before a particularly difficult negotiation. _Maybe I should have let Luke train me, just a little,_ Leia thought, well aware of the irony at this particular moment.

Seven-Three-H stopped in front of a set of intricately decorated doors, carved from a rich, warm wood, which immediately drew Han's eye. They were a sharp—and welcome—contrast to the

plasticine and transparisteel that formed the cold, utilitarian design of the rest of the medcenter.

"Looks like something you'd make, Dad," Ben said with admiration as he ran his fingers over the woodworking. Han had made much of the family's furniture, and they were pieces that would last for generations.

His father's lips lifted in a small smile. Han had always found working with his hands comforting.

"Come inside," Seven-Three-H beckoned.

The chapel was very small, with only half a dozen benches, constructed from the same fine wood as the doors. Plush, deep red pads covered them, with thick, matching carpet covering the floors. There was no altar; it appeared that the chapel had been designed largely for contemplation. Rich, Alderaanian-style tapestries covered the walls. The only illumination came from four dimly-shining glows, bathing the chapel in a soft, warm light.

Ben and Luke both visibly relaxed. "I like this room," Ben said softly.

"I do, too," Luke reassured his nephew.

Han and Leia appreciated the surroundings—the chapel was a lovely place—but as the reality of what was about to happen sank in, so did a sense of foreboding.

This was their son, their firstborn, their beloved child. Both parents understood that Ben had made this decision on his own, but did he truly understand the risks? And did Luke, their brother? Yes, technically Luke wasn't Han's brother by blood, simply by virtue of marriage. But the two had been so close for so long, that they were brothers in their hearts. He was taking a risk, too

The couple looked at each other, sharing another of moment of silent communication, as they each marshaled their own strengths. The decision was made, the chance cubes thrown—there was no going back from here. Leia closed her eyes and let out a breath; Han kept a neutral expression, steeling himself to be calm. _It's your job, dammit,_ Han reminded himself. He slipped an arm over Leia's shoulder; hers naturally curved around his waist. Both breathed a little more evenly and slowly.

"Ben? Luke?" Seven-Three-H looked expectantly at the pair.

"It's good," Luke said to the droid. Ben nodded in agreement.

Seven-Three-H then looked at Luke. "Master Luke has already refused to be monitored during the procedure," the droid announced. "But I must insist that we monitor both he and Ben."

"Agreed," said Han and Leia, together. The two looked at each other again and smiled slightly; this was the result of so many years together. Ben actually giggled, he'd witnessed it so many times, and Luke chuckled as well.

"We'll need an hour to get ready," Seven-Three-H informed them. "If you would like to wait—"

"Are you gonna be here?" Ben interrupted.

"I will be here, Ben, yes," the med droid informed him. "And one of the nurses will as well."

"Can I have Kween?" the boy asked, some timidity creeping into his voice. Kween was Socorran, a large, no-nonsense, huge-hearted human female that had an affection for Ben, unlike a number of the other staff members. Ben hadn't exactly endeared himself to most of the professionals working in his area.

"I'll have to check if she's coming on shift today," Seven-Three-H told him. "And if she is, she won't be on duty for another hour."

"But you said it would take an hour anyway," Ben protested.

Seven-Three-H held up his hand. "Ben, I will do everything I can to accommodate you. I want this to be as comfortable a process as possible, and as safe as we can make it. But I do need to talk to the charge nurse."

Ben grudgingly agreed.

"If you would like, you may wait in the conference room we were using until it's time," Seven-Three-H offered.

The four humans exited the chapel, following the droid back through the medcenter corridors.

Seven-Three-H did not express how concerned he was for all involved; it was not his place. His job was to heal and to protect. He would do both to the best of his ability.


	3. Chapter 3

**FORCE OF LIFE**

 **CHAPTER THREE**

Precisely one hour later, Seven-Three-H rejoined them in the small conference room.

"Are there any other requirements, Master Luke? Ben?" asked the droid.

Luke had already assumed his role as Jedi master. He rose silently to his feet, his hands clasped together across the sash of his Jedi robes. His face was calm, and his expression turned inward. He nodded his readiness.

Han and Leia rose as well, grasping each other's hands. Han squeezed Leia's hand tightly as she looked over at Ben. This was their son, their baby!

"Okay, Luke," directed Han. "Let's get this going."

The adults and Seven-Three-H were already moving toward the door when Ben shot up from his seat.

"Wait!" the boy called out.

Everyone froze in place, their faces all bearing the same expression: _Was Ben going to halt the process now?_

"Yes, Ben?" Leia asked, sounding much calmer than she looked.

"I have to have Spot!"

"What?" Han dropped Leia's hand as he expressed his surprise. Loudly.

His wife placed her hand flat against his chest, holding Han back, silently begging him to wait.

"Sweetie, I don't think this is the best time for Spot to be here," she began, moving back into the room toward her son. "He's an old pitten now," she continued, the voice of reason. "And you know he doesn't like going to strange places."

"But he likes _me,_ " Ben objected. His voice quavered and tears swelled in his dark eyes. "You asked me if there was anything else I needed. I need Spot."

"I don't believe bringing an animal is an acceptable idea," Seven-Three-H said firmly.

Luke held up a hand, silencing the droid with a gesture. "Why do you want Spot here, Ben?" he asked the young man.

Ben drew in one shuddering breath. "When I'm with him, I feel better." Another breath followed the first. "He's my best friend!" Ben wailed. Once again, tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Leia? Han?" Luke looked at his sister and brother-in-law. "It's up to you."

Leia looked at Ben, her mother's heart aching for her son. "Give us a minute, Ben," was all she said as

she grabbed Han's hand and towed him to a far corner of the room. Across the table, Ben stared mutinously at them, arms folded tight across his chest.

"Han, what harm can it do?" Leia whispered to her husband. "Really? Spot's proved pretty resilient over the years. He's survived three toddlers," she pointed out.

"Ben isn't a toddler anymore," Han hissed back. "He's strong. What if he hurts him?"

Leia looked at him with fond exasperation, remembering that Han still considered the pitten their first child.

"Han, I don't think Ben—" Leia continued.

"I can hear you!" Ben called from the other side of the room. "I'm right here, you know," he pointed out, snarling. Then his face softened, making him look young and vulnerable. "I won't hurt Spot," he assured his father. "I promise."

Parents and child stared at each other across the small conference table for so long, Luke finally cleared his throat to get their attention.

"I think it might be a good idea for Spot to be here," he said. "I think it will help Ben."

Leia turned her own dark eyes up to her husband. "Han?" she pleaded.

Han shut his eyes and nodded. "Okay." His forehead wrinkled. "So how are we going to get him here."

Leia was already one step ahead of her husband when it came to the logistics. "We'll have Threepio bring him."

Both Han and Ben smiled identical smiles.

"This should be interesting," Ben said through his tears.

"Yeah, Threepio can't stand the little guy," Han groaned. "He never could," Threepio had made no secret of his disdain for the furry creature, whom he felt made the apartment much less tidy than it already was. Of course, the golden droid also made it known how he felt about Han kicking off his boots in the sitting area as well, which Han usually responded to with Corellian curses—or with gestures Leia would prefer that the kids didn't learn. They, had, of course.

"I honestly have misgivings about bringing in a pitten, but if it will help Ben, I'll allow it," Seven-Three-H finally conceded. At least he didn't sigh like Threepio.

01123581321345589144233377610987

The faces staring at the door of the Chapel of Silence were either solemn, nervous, or expectant—depending on whether they belonged to Luke, Han and Leia, or Ben. Seven-Three-H was at the other end of the small chapel, checking the set-up of what everyone hoped were unnecessary medical scanners and devices, which he did with the precision only a droid could produce. Finally, the waiting group heard a shuffling, rattling sound. Ben raced for the door, opening it before whoever was outside could signal for entry.

Threepio waddled in, holding a fabric carrier at arm's length. Whatever was inside the carrier was not happy with its mode of transportation; the sides bulged outward at uneven intervals, accompanied by a continuous stream of snarls, hisses, and growls.

"Spot!" Ben called out in ecstasy, reaching to take the carrier from Threepio.

"Mistress Leia!" the droid wailed. "How could you do this to me?" Threepio turned his photoreceptors to Luke. "Oh, Master Luke, sir," he continued piteously. "Won't you take me back into service, please, sir?" He flapped his hands in front of him, indicating his golden-colored front panels, now marred by several sets of parallel scratches. "Just look what that vile beast has done to my finish!"

"Now, listen, Goldenrod," Han threatened, moving toward the protocol droid.

With oft practiced motions, Leia stepped between her husband and Threepio, while Ben clutched the silver-furred pitten to his chest. The carrier lay tattered and abandoned at his feet.

Luke's steady lips slipped up into a smile at the familiar Organa-Solo family dynamics. It felt right that some things, at least, remained the same—the future always in motion or not.

"Mistress Leia…and you, too, Captain Solo," Threepio scolded. "You have always taken advantage of my generous nature, but this time—"

Han hissed in an angry breath between clenched teeth, but before he had a chance to explode, Seven-Three-H slid forward. He spat a staticky, high-pitched whine of machine language at Threepio. The protocol droid stuttered to a halt.

"But," Threepio began.

More machine language issued from Seven-Three-H. Threepio bowed his head and turned to Han and

Leia.

"Mistress Leia, Captain Solo," said the chastened droid. "It appears I owe you an apology. Please pardon my poor manners." Threepio straightened and moved to the chapel doorway. "I believe I shall return to your home and my other duties." With as much dignity as he could muster, the gold droid exited the chapel. A stunned silence filled the room.

Han closed his gaping mouth and turned to Seven-Three-H. "How'd you do that?" he asked. "Never in all the time I've been stuck with him have I seen anyone—"

"I simply solved a problem, Captain Solo. It is one of my functions." Seven-Three-H turned to look at Luke and Ben. "Are we now ready to begin?" he asked.

Ben swallowed and buried his face in Spot's fur. The pitten's eyes and ears were at attention and he squirmed in the young man's arms.

"Ben?" Han prompted gently.

"Just let Spot walk around the room once," he requested. His father nodded, and Ben let the pitten leap from his arms.

Spot moved slowly and with stately grace around the chapel, carefully sniffing, occasionally rubbing against the room's modest furnishings. When he came to the sensors and monitors, the pitten's tail stiffened and flicked with dislike.

Luke hadn't seen the Solo family pet in some time; Spot was indeed old now, with more white in his muzzle than silver. Still, the pitten carried himself with the self-assurance of an elder statesman. Luke's mouth twitched up into another fond smile as Spot finished his inspection of the chapel and returned

to Ben, rubbing against the boy's legs. It always amazed Luke at how in-tune with the Force animals were.

Ben reached down and scooped up the pitten. Holding Spot close, he looked at his uncle.

"Okay," he said in a small voice. "I'm ready."

01123581321345589144233

Uncle and nephew sat across from each other on the floor of the chapel, as Seven-Three-H

hooked up the monitors to Ben and Luke. The boy was obviously terrified, but soothed himself by petting Spot, who had folded himself neatly into Ben's lap.

Ben looked over to Han and Leia, seated nearby on one of the cushioned benches.

"Dad, Mom, come sit with me," he beckoned them. "Please."

"I may not be able to get up again," Han grumbled, using the excuse to cover his nervousness. However, a few bones did creak as he lowered himself to the floor next to Ben. Leia, ten years younger, seated herself more gracefully. She had yet to reach the stage where getting down on the floor—and up again—had become a challenge, but she knew it was coming. She patted her husband on the knee with a sympathetic smile.

Once they were seated on either side of their son, Han placed a reassuring hand on

Ben's back, while Leia entwined her son's long fingers in her petite hand, both parents doing what they could to ease Ben's fears.

Luke looked at his family seated across from him. Their anxiety radiated off of them, especially from his twin sister; he felt it mixing with his own unease. The Jedi sent them calming thoughts, relieved when he felt some of the tension slip away. He couldn't afford to have his thoughts

clouded now. Clearing his mind, Luke let the Force flow through him. He focused on Ben, and on the difficult task at hand.

"Ben, close your eyes," Luke instructed his nephew softly. Ben complied with the request. "Focus on your breathing."

Within several moments, Ben's breathing was slow and even, keeping time with Spot's soft murring as the boy gently stroked the pitten's back. Luke was pleased to see that Spot seemed disinclined to leave Ben; he certainly was helping him focus. Luke suspected that the pitten had missed the boy during his hospitalization every bit as much as the boy had missed the pitten.

"Get in touch with the Force, Ben, and feel it flow through your entire body," instructed Luke.

Han's hand paused in its steady massage of his son's back. He sent a worried look in Leia's direction, obviously concerned that this suggestion was a bad idea. She gave him a tiny nod in return, assuring Han it was necessary. Han's eyes then flicked to the monitors, which were being watched by Seven-Three-H and Kween. Ben's heart rate and breathing were reassuringly slow and even. For the first time in a very long time, Ben appeared peaceful.

Luke had worried that he might not be able to get Ben to this state, but the Force was strong in him, in Ben-and in Leia. Luke was pleased to feel his sister lending her strength to Ben. He suspected that as the process continued, both he and Ben would need Leia's support.

Using the Force to probe ever deeper, Luke could feel the battle that raged within Ben. Both the Dark Side and the Light were with him, as they were with every being, but in Ben's case they appeared to clash continually, each clamoring to take control. No wonder Ben suffered so much.

Luke ignored Han's sharp indrawn breath as the father noted his son's vitals becoming more erratic, and he ignored Kween's whispered reassurance that Ben was in no danger. He couldn't

allow himself to be distracted now.

"You feel both the dark and the light all the time, don't you? The continual conflict within you?" Luke asked Ben gently. Tears were rolling down the boy's cheeks. "Ben, do you wish to end this?"

"I'm being torn apart," Ben whispered, his head jerking up and down in response to Luke's question.

"Then you need to will the Force to be gone from you," Luke told him simply. "Your mom and I will help you." Spot nuzzled his head into Ben's leg, mewing his own reassurances.

Luke knew that to the others in the chapel, he appeared composed, but as he immersed himself fully in Ben's essence in the Force, he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his back, pooling at the sash tied around the waist of his Jedi robes. He could sense Leia's own exertion in the Force as she lent motherly support to her son, holding Ben's free hand, and Han adding his own strength to theirs. Only Spot was truly at ease, the pitten's intuitive sense of the Force sending calming vibrations to Ben as the boy clutched his tail. Luke felt a tiny smile lift the corners of his mouth. Ben had done that from babyhood on, drawing solace from the pitten when he was under stress or in pain. In his turn, Ben was the only Solo child Spot would allow this liberty.

To Luke, the chirping and blinking of Seven-Three-H's sensors seemed light years away. The Jedi master didn't need to them to know that Ben's brain was intensely active, churning with

sensations. Luke could see the place where light and dark warred; it looked like the maw of a giant sarlacc, ready to digest his nephew whole for a thousand years. The time to act was now, before Ben was lost forever.

"Ben, I'm going to will the Force to leave you now," Luke told him. Careful to clear his mind of all distractions, the Jedi plunged himself into the maelstrom of Ben's Force essence.

Pain pushed at him from all sides, threatening to pull him down into the pit right along with the boy. Luke's heart pounded and he gasped out loud as he furiously pushed back. Just as he started to slip away, Luke felt, rather than saw, the white light that was Leia, anchoring him. Together they sought out Ben's pure, clean essence, binding it tightly to them as the three—brother and sister, nephew and son—banished the Force sense from Ben's being.

01123581321345589144233377610987

The only thing Luke was conscious of was a heavy silence.

Then he heard an intense rumbling; it sounded like the engine of a racing speeder. It was only when he felt the sharp pricks in his thigh that he realized the sound was Spot, purring loudly as he pawed at the Jedi's leg.

Slowly the Jedi became aware of other things: the sticky feel of medical sensors attached to his body, the uneven shuddering of his sister's breathing, Han awkwardly stroking Leia's hair as he watched Seven-Three-H and Kween work over the still, prone form of his nephew.

"Ben!" Luke tried to call; it came out as a hoarse croak.

"He's only fainted," Kween assured him. "Nothing we can't handle here." The nurse moved from where she had been helping to elevate Ben's legs. "How are you feeling, Master Jedi?" she asked him, checking readouts on a portable bio-sensor.

"I'm just fine," answered Luke with mild irritation. At least this time his voice sounded normal. With one shaking hand he wiped the sweat off his face, with the other he pulled at one of the sensors. Kween reached over and plucked his hand away.

"You leave that be until we make sure," she warned him with a warm smile. The nurse's eyes

traveled over the monitor, then she reached over to remove the sticky pads herself. "I think you'll do," she assured Luke.

"Ben is okay?" Luke asked. Han, with his arm still protectively around Leia, had moved over to their son's side. Seven-Three-H was issuing instructions into a comlink.

"I think so," Han answered. His own voice didn't sound much better than Luke's had.

At that moment, Ben regained consciousness, blinking his eyes. "So tired," he murmured.

Leia leaned over and kissed her son on the forehead. "You're going to be fine, Ben."

"I love you, buddy," Han said tenderly as he stroked the boy's cheek. Ben smiled weakly before closing his eyes again.

Leia moved to her brother as he rose to his feet, disentangling Spot from his robes. Luke leaned gratefully into his sister's hug. "How are you?" she asked him.

"I'm okay. Can't say I ever want to do that again, though," he remarked as he gave Leia a weak smile. "Is Ben really all right?"

"He fainted, but he's back with us," Leia assured him. A repulsor stretcher arrived to carry Ben back to his cube in the medcenter. Spot leapt carefully up alongside the boy. No one tried to remove the pitten; he'd earned his place.

"He'll probably sleep for a long time," Luke informed her.

"So will you, I bet," Han announced, looking at Luke. "You should go to our place. I don't like the i

dea of you being alone after going through all this."

"Actually, I think I'll take you up on that," Luke told them. "But what about Ben?"

"I'll stay with him," Han said flatly. "Leia, honey," he said, taking his wife in his arms and embracing her, "go home with Luke and get some rest."

Leia, after a near-desperate kiss shared with her husband, went to her son. "I'll be back," she

promised the long, thin, weary figure of her firstborn.

01123581321345589144233377610987

Han stared at the sleeping figure of his son in the bed. The boy may have been tall for his age, but right now, he looked like the little boy Han remembered so clearly tucking in at night, after he'd told Ben one of the many tales from his adventures over the years-cleaned up for age-appropriateness, of course. For the most part.

He was grateful that Ben had made the decision that he had. But Han wasn't kidding himself; this was simply the first step of what was likely to be a long and very painful journey.


End file.
